“Ah, me? There were some… surprises to be sure, but I’ve always been a man of good fortune. Fancy that: a vent duct serving as a doorway. Never would have crossed my mind until then, but let us set that aside for a later date. Our little seed has requested for your help. I know your business with Libevich is not quite finished, but I assure you that this prey will be just as satisfying.”

- Satanael

———

Libevich

Luxanne has never actually seen her in person before: the Throne of Heaven. She’s heard the stories, her feats in battle, and occasionally a chance would come to see her from afar, but it’s different now—up close, her presence suffocates all that would cast their eyes on her.

It’s hard to believe such a presence could possibly belong to a human. From her appearance, to her wings, and even the way she carries herself… it’s like looking at a divine being.

Luxanne’s starting to understand Libevich's anger now, for she can only look on in awe as Lorelai effortlessly lands on the pavement and strides over to Ceraphina.

“I have received your call,” she says to her. “You have worked diligently for our cause, and for that I thank you.”

Ceraphina freezes for a second, her eyes wide and expression flustered, but soon she recovers her composure and greets Lorelai with an awkward bow. “It’s, um, nothing. We both have a common enemy. I’m just doing what I can to free those I love from Xeros’s reign.”

She glances at Luxanne with a final look of plea, but it’s no use. For the two of them… it’s far too late to change their paths now.

“Still, I didn’t expect Satanael’s benefactor to be a dead woman. Guess you’ve had it all planned from the beginning, huh?”

Lorelai chuckles. “Such is the nature of war. Nothing is more valued than the advantage which information brings, and so does victory go to the one who veils truth in falsehoods and deceit.”

Ceraphina grimaces at her words. “Funny, I wouldn’t be surprised if those words came right out of Xeros’s mouth.”

Lorelai stops and stares straight into Ceraphina’s eyes.

“Do you resent me?” she says. “In your view, I suppose there is not much difference between me and the man you so despise. I invaded your home, purposely sought you out for my own goals, and now… there can be no end to this conflict. Not unless the land is bathed in the blood of the greedy, the innocent, the corrupted and unwilling alike.”

Ceraphina clenches her fist and, for a moment, looks completely willing to order an attack on Polus’s strongest. But before she can do so, Lorelai suddenly drops onto her knees and cups her hands within her own.

“Even so, pray lend me your understanding.” Her tone changes from that rigid, almost stifling air of grace. Now, she sounds like any other person—one heavy with repentance. “Loath me, abhor me, do whatever you wish if it may provide some comfort. But know that I cannot stop here. Surely one in your position must understand? For all the lives entrusted to us, we must seek an end to this tiresome war by any means necessary. I see that resolve within you, as well as a kindred heart. We both fight not for conquest or power… but for freedom.”

“Freedom…” Ceraphina mutters, slowly lowering herself as well. “I’ve also done things that I’m not proud of. I—I ran away from that spire because I was too scared to take responsibility for all the suffering my inventions caused. I lied, and I cheated, and I did everything I could to get where I am now. And you know what? Staging raids, building my forces… it felt good. I felt like I was finally contributing some good to this world, and maybe, just maybe, I could finally be absolved of my mistakes. I thought so, but that’s a lie. I’ve always been and always will be a selfish woman.”

Luxanne shouts out to her. “Ceraphina!” Despite everything, she can’t help but want to run out there and tell that stupid, cruel, self-indulgent idiot about how that’s not true. But does she even have the right to do so? The life Ceraphina’s lived… Luxanne doesn’t know it at all.

In the end, she only responds with a sad look and stands back up. “Sorry for all the snark; we both stand to lose everything if this fails, so do what you have to. The Yurodiviye’s on your side.”

Lorelai stands back up, and the two shake the other’s hand. “Thank you, Ceraphina. Let us put an end to this nation: together. But first…”

She turns around, and points her blade at Luxanne.

“Go,” Lorelai commands. “I will not kill her.”

“Please don’t hurt her too much,” Ceraphina whispers, leaving the area with the rest of her followers. “Anyone but her.”

“I promise to do what I am able.”

“... Okay.”

With that, the Yurodiviye disappear. Luxanne wants to chase after that moron, to try and find another way that doesn’t involve the destruction of everything her mother’s ever built, but her body betrays her. It trembles as the Heaven’s Throne gradually approaches.

“Do you wish to continue?” Lorelai asks.

Honestly, not really. It’s hard even just to stay standing right now… but what can I do? Giving up’s not in my blood.

“I don’t resent you,” Luxanne says, steeling her nerves. “But I have my own reasons for protecting this place. I’ll make it up to Cera later.”

“Then so be it.”

Luxanne quickly leaps back and shoots an incendiary bullet at Lorelai. She dodges it without a care, but the target isn’t meant for her. The bullet smashes into the ground and explodes into a smokescreen. Her vision’s blocked; now’s the chance—

For Luxanne to get the hells away from here.

She bolts for the streets and runs as fast as her legs can muster. Right now? Victory’s impossible. She doesn’t even try to entertain the thought. If Libevich of all people is helpless before her, then what chance does Luxanne have? No, the only choice left is to stall until the Omega Pulse finishes charging. Maybe then she’ll have a fighting chance, but until then, it’s time to swallow her pride and get out of this place.

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Right as she reaches her corner, her instincts suddenly scream at her to jump away. A black greatsword resembling the void comes crashing down and narrowly slices her arm off. Lorelai emerges in front of her, and Luxanne prepares to shoot again, but the Throne stomps the ground—toppling her balance before rushing in and aiming for her legs.

Luxanne manages to evade somehow, but it’s not looking good. Lorelai’s sword cuts through everything as if through air. Even trying to clash is useless; the gunblade’s only going to get chopped up like a stick. All she has left now are her bullets and an instinct honed after decades of Xeros’s brutal training.

There’s only one problem: the city. Destruction follows them everywhere. Roads, buildings, factories and workshops—none are spared from Lorelai’s assault. At this rate the whole district’ll be torn apart; she can’t let that happen.

Luxanne jumps up into the air and shoots a bullet below her. An fiery explosion erupts, and the force sends her hurtling up towards the Erudite. It’s smaller there; the wreckage won’t be as severe.

She rapidly ascends to the upper layer, shooting bullets that create floating clouds as footing, and all the while Lorelai chases after her with a terrifying speed. It may seem stupid to escape into the sky against a winged flow, but she’s not entirely helpless. Luxanne pesters her with rains of ooze, of flashbangs—anything to slow her down.

Right as she reaches the top, Luxanne escapes into the Erudite’s alleyways and does her best to dim her presence.

It’s almost time now. She just needs to hold out for a few more minutes.

A spatial wave of pure darkness passes right above her, cleaving every building in sight in twain and burying her in the rumble. A single slash: that’s all Lorelai needed to root out her hiding spot.

Luxanne climbs out, breath wheezing as chalk and dust fill her throat. She pokes her hand out and tries to grab onto something for support, but a force latches onto her arm and forcibly pulls her out before she has a chance to recover.

Her vision’s blurry from the wreckage, but it’s clear who’s the one that pulled her out. Lorelai shakes her head and tosses her onto the crumpled pavement.

“If you surrender now, I will not harm you any further,” she says while Luxanne coughs from the impact. “I would prefer not to render you unconscious, lest the force addle your mind.”

Just a bit more. Stall for just a bit more. “Hah,” she grunts. “Are there any other options?”

“Your limbs,” Lorelai responds coldly. “At the very least, Caelum technology appears capable of providing you with mechanical replacements.”

“... I’d rather keep my own flesh and blood, thanks.”

The Throne sighs and picks her up by the neck.

“Then I wish you luck in maintaining your sanity.”

A loud screech interrupts her before she can land the final strike. Mechanical groans and shifting plates drown out everything in the city, and soon, four large obelisks rise up from the city’s cardinal points: north, south, east and west. They surge with crackling, volatile energy as a white light gathers at the very tip.

“What is this?” Lorelai murmurs, her voice brimming with curiosity. She’s relaxed now, but that’ll soon change.

It’s done. Luxanne doesn’t have to drag this on any longer.

“About time.” She raises her gunblade and shoots a single bullet into the air. It bursts into red sparkles and ribbons, then nothing. It’s just a signal—nothing more.

But that signal is the start of her counterattack.

The white beams burst forth from the obelisks and coalesce above the city. Slowly, it trickles to the side, solidifying and taking shape until Caligos Imperium is trapped in a glistening cage. The legionnaires, the knights, Luxanne and Lorelai both… they’re all stuck together now.

The black void making up the Throne’s greatsword begins to fade. All that’s left of it is the hilt, and down in the lower layers, Luxanne can hear people yelling out in confusion.

It’s no wonder, for Creation’s been sealed. It’s equal footing from here on out; everyone’s reduced to their own physical strength.

That’s how it should be, but then why does Lorelai still have her wings?

“Huh?” Luxanne mumbles. “That’s not—what’s going on? You’re not an inheritor; how are your wings still…”

Lorelai stares at her now-bladeless greatsword, and then back to her wings.

“Fascinating. Never have I seen anything quite like this sorcery before. No, I suppose it functions more as a product of machinery rather than pure Creation. But to forcibly overwhelm that divinity into such a befuddled state… I suppose it affects naught those with a fragment of Cosmos. A child cannot harm their creator, after all. Still an impressive feat to be sure.”

Luxanne freezes. Something’s off. Lorelai’s voice—it’s different. Not just in tone, but… fundamentally. It’s a voice that lacks emotion, as if the thing before her is merely assuming the guise of a human.

“Hm?” she says, turning her head back towards her. “Ah, my mistake. It is not often I see such a sight. Let us continue, Luxanne.”

Damnit, I just don’t know. Is Creation sealed or not? At least she won’t be able to use her sword now; I have to take the chance while the pulse field is still active.

Luxanne points her gunblade and readies her stance. Although the bullets are no longer enchanted, she still has her swordsmanship. Even a monster like Lorelai won’t be able to take her down without a fight.

The Throne rushes forward and closes the distance between them in an instant. Her fist flashes across her vision, narrowly striking her head, but Luxanne manages to deflect it with the edge of her blade. There’s no time to relax; Lorelai quickly moves on, assaulting her with a flurry of blows that only target her limbs. A crush to the leg here, a rough hit to her arm there—again and again. It takes all of her power just to defend against the relentless woman. There’s no room to attack or even counter.

The two continue their exchange, striking and redirecting faster than the eye can see. Luxanne’s holding on through pure instinct at this point, but she’s losing her ground. Every blow leaves her with a bruise or wound, yet Lorelai’s as spotless as ever.

If Luxanne slashes, the blade’s crushed beneath a heel. If she stabs, a powerful jab slams into her waist before she can even react. It’s a never-ending flow: an aggressive dance where only Lorelai takes the lead.

The longer they clash, the more haggard Luxanne becomes. Her muscles scream out in pain; the world’s all starting to blur together with every sharp breath she takes. It’s painful, but not just physically. It’s painful knowing that even in technique she’s outmatched so deeply.

She knows Lorelai isn’t using her full power against her.

She knows she’s being treated like a child.

She knows Lorelai could have finished this entire fight in the first move if not for Ceraphina’s plea.

Luxanne knows this full well, and even though her pride as a warrior’s been shattered, she continues to stand back up and swing her blade. She has to. Keep moving; keep struggling; keep flailing like a pathetic, crude dimwit. The moment she falters is the very moment she accepts her nation’s defeat—it’s utter annihilation. So, she’ll fight no matter how much her soul screams against it.

She’ll bite, and claw, and strain herself to the very end

To the very end.

To the…

“... You have a magnificent will, Luxanne.”

She can’t feel her face anymore. How bloodied is her body? She doesn’t know. Her legs have long given out; they’re only standing now out of sheer persistence.

“I have no doubt you will survive, so please: remain strong for those who love you so. When you wake up, everything will be over.”

Luxanne collapses onto her knees. Lorelai’s saying something, but she can’t hear any of it. Her ears are ringing too much.

The cage starts to disappear above her. And the sky—something’s happening to the sky. A veil of twilight covers it all, bathing the land in an ominous wave of dread.

As Luxanne gives one final look out towards the sky, she sees Xeros’s figure completely engulfed in red lightning.